


loving you is easy

by charmolypi



Series: mavinweek [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, i wrote one line of dialogue in this entire thing. gg me., idk what else to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9784184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmolypi/pseuds/charmolypi
Summary: Michael Jones thinks his soulmate better fucking appreciate all the shit he has to put up with just so they can have a good day. Damn cocksucker.He envys Gavin Free's happy go lucky nature from the day they meet.(written for mavinweek)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feb 15th - love / soul  
> I immediately thought soulmate AU bc I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs  
> Based off of [this list](http://r-evolve-art.tumblr.com/post/144380748003/master-list-of-soulmate-aus), If you’re having a good/bad day, your soulmate will have the same amount of good/bad day. (Or alternatively, the opposite)  
> I went for the alternative (it’s kinda hard to imagine how this works, but I imagine that not every day is good/bad and like the more time you spend w/ them, the less that it impacts you??)

### (because we’re meant to be, aren’t _we_?)

Most days, Michael Jones was fairly certain he was cursed.

Well, cursed with a soulmate who seemed to only have good days, that was.

He supposed he didn’t mind, not completely. He could handle himself just fine. He could put up with dealing with bullies and having shit luck all the time. Granted, he’d like to have a good day more than once in a blue moon, but it wasn’t the worst he could get.

Whoever the lucky son of a bitch was, they better appreciate the fact that he had to suffer for their sake.

Fucker.

* * *

When Michael is eighteen, he actually has to stop himself and think about how ridiculous the entire concept of a soulmate was.

How absolutely ridiculous it was that he was resigned to the idea that he had to have a bad day, just because some complete stranger was supposed to have a good one. It was stupid that this was some sort of social norm that he was expected to accept. It was stupid that he couldn’t control this, and it was stupid that he could go his whole life without ever meeting them.

(Michael doesn’t want to admit that he clings to the hope that there was someone out there, perfectly meant for him; who’ll turn his bad days into slightly better ones simply by just being there, and vice versa.)

Perhaps it’s a bit stupid— he thinks it sounds like some cliche teen girl with her first crush; but it’s the truth. But that's the way life is: stupid and nonsensical, and every bit unpredictable. He’ll cling to it, stubbornly, till the day he dies.

Michael hopes that the dickhead— his soulmate— whoever they were, was having a good fucking day.

Damn asshole.

* * *

Michael is almost twenty-two when he meets Gavin Free.

It’s a fairly average workday when he meets Gavin officially— he’d spotted him in passing a few times, but this was the first time they’d actually met face to face.

His first impression is that he is an odd sort of person— which is both an understatement and an overstatement at the same time. It’s almost fitting, because Gavin is practically a living contradiction of sorts.

They get along surprisingly well to most— granted, there are days where Gavin gets on his nerves almost unbearably, and Michael has to yell at him. But it’s never angry, not by far; everyone knows when he’s actually upset, and the slightest smile as he yells at him gives away that much.

Michael can’t help but grin at him, even on some of his worst days; because that’s just how they are, just how much Gavin is to him.

Sometimes, in the back of his mind, he ponders if his soulmate has to suffer for his best days; which blend in almost seamlessly with his worst nowadays. Each Michael pushes the thought away, because if they were really supposed to be a perfect match, that it was alright if that happened, wasn’t it? He’s put up with so much over the years, that it was alright if he was a little selfish, right?

Michael thinks Gavin is lucky, because he doubts he's had a hard day in his life, not with how happy go lucky he acts. He rarely sees him have a bad day, and even then Gavin acts like every day is his best. He can’t help but envy that a little bit.

Michael tries to ignore the way he feels as he answers another one of Gavin Free’s infamously dumb questions.

* * *

At twenty-five, he's almost fairly certain he's met his soulmate.

Finding your soulmate seemed like such a fickle thing, and he can’t help second guess himself; doubt that he’s that lucky, question if he’s reading too deeply into things and interpreting things out of desperation.

For that reason, Michael still hesitates to label it as that, even if three years has given his feelings time to develop and be properly named; its not really as simple as that. Nothing in life ever was that simple.

For one, Michael might be impulsive and a bit reckless; brash and confrontational about most aspects of his life...this is one of those situations where such things would not benefit him, most likely. Doing that is risky, might make things broken and awkward between them.

And losing their friendship is not worth the risk, to Michael.

Secondly, there was the fact that his (supposed) soulmate didn’t seem to share that sentiment, didn't seem to think that they were soulmates— whether it was simply that Gavin was oblivious to it or did not quite feel the same way he did, Michael had no clue.

It hurts, just a little, but he doesn’t let it show— doesn’t admit that maybe it hurts more than a little bit.

Michael knows deep down that he’ll gladly take a thousand bad days if it means he can make sure Gavin’s happy; if he can take pleasure in hearing his laughs and seeing sly grins, meant solely for him.

He knows how entirely selfish he is being.

Part of him wonders if he feels the way he does because he sees him as his soulmate, or if it's actually Gavin himself he fell in love with ,or something else entirely. Michael would like to think it’s the second, but he always has to doubt himself.

He's not oblivious to the knowing looks he gets from their co-workers, though it is a little harder to ignore the nonchalance with which they acknowledge that they seem too close for just friends. It does not help that during said moment, Gavin happens to be sleeping; head resting on his shoulder.

Michael didn't care about what everyone else thought, as long as it never affected Gavin.

How selfless of him.

And that's how he knows exactly how deeply in love with Gavin he is.

* * *

Somewhere around the time he's twenty-eight, progress is made.

It’s about damn time, in Michael’s opinion, because by the time he’s twenty-eight, he’s more or less completely given up on the entire soulmate thing; resigning himself to just sticking to his dumb one-sided crush. He considered dating at one point, but really, that’s not fair to anyone involved with that, so he gives up entirely.

It also happens to be while they're both somewhat drunk, quite frankly, and the inebriation is probably what contributes to his impulsiveness. Michael is admittedly somewhat more sober than Gavin is, but that’s really just because he doesn’t get drunk as easily as the Brit does.

It’s not like this is the first time they’ve gone out to get ‘bevs’ (as Gavin usually put it), nor is it the first time they’ve gotten pretty wasted around each other. Tonight’s different though, because Gavin’s unusually quiet, and Michael can conclude that he’s got something on his mind. He doesn’t push, because that’s how he is with Gavin, and he knows if he wanted to talk about it, he would tell him. Because Michael’s his _boi_ , and he tells him these things.

Michael notices Gavin staring at his face with an intent look of determination— well, as focused as a drunk person can look, before he moves closer so that their knees are touching; not even giving him enough time to say anything before Gavin leans in to kiss him.

He can smell the beer they’d been drinking on his breath, taste it on his lips...and it lasts the briefest of moments before he’s pulling away. It’s so sudden and quick that Michael doesn’t even get a moment to react, to savor any of it; and he’s left to blink stupidly as he tries to process what just happened.

_Holy shit._

Michael’s certain he must be dreaming, or really, that it’s nothing because they’re drunk, he’s drunk— but Gavin’s smug (and drunken) laughter at how startled he looks is enough to get his attention. He let’s out a playful growl as he lunges at him, and Gavin squawks and laughs as Michael knocks him over and they wrestle on the floor for a while; until they’re both tired out and lying on the floor, grinning at each other without a care in the world.

Michael decides he’ll worry about it in the morning, when they’re sober and can somewhat be responsible for their actions.

Gavin’s saying his name to get his attention, which is hardly recognizable— accent thicker than normal and a drunken slur; and Michael decides that it’s time to get them to bed because he’s not sure what time it is, but the hangover in the morning will be bad enough (he’s pretty sure Gavin’s about five minutes away from falling asleep on the floor anyways).

Michael thinks it’s something short of a miracle that he can pry Gavin off of the floor and get him into bed, and he lets him drunkenly trace his freckles (like they’re the best thing he’s seen) until  he falls asleep.

He wakes up the next morning to an alarm going off, a pounding headache, and arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He twists around to see Gavin awake, grinning at him fondly— despite the bloodshot eyes and the likely worse hangover he was dealing with.

“Morning, _love_.” Gavin’s voice is still rough with sleep, and Michael would usually mock his British slang; but the slight emphasis on the word makes him consider otherwise.

Instead, he opts to shove him away and call him an asshole (he can’t hide the small smile that crosses his face when Gavin leans in to peck his lips).

Work is rough that day, the lingering effects of a hangover doubled with the relentless teasing from their coworkers because Gavin takes it upon himself to make sure everyone knows— and really, no one's surprised which is disappointing to Gavin but relieving to Michael because it means that things will work out smoothly for the most part.

No one says anything when Gavin whispers quietly to him during their lunch break, sitting close to one another. Michael snorts a little bit when he chokes on his food, making sure he’s alright before going back to editing videos. Exchanged glances say a lot more than words could do.

It’s alright. They’ll work through it, even if things are different than before.

* * *

So maybe his soulmate wasn’t a perfect person. Maybe, Michael’s hopes were a silly thing— expecting something close to perfect.

Gavin isn’t a perfect person. Michael knows this, and knows he's not either. But he’s perfect enough for him, and that’s all that matters to him.

They fight and argue just as much as they did before, yelling and screaming amongst laughter and soft smiles. They always make up in the end, because they work to make things work. There are good days and bad days, and lots that fall somewhere in between.

Life isn’t perfect.

But Michael doesn’t want it any other way.


End file.
